And I Can't Pretend That That Doesn't Mean a Thing to Me
by perfectromanceinmymind
Summary: A post-S4 finale one-shot that finds Mercedes at the Pillsbury/Schuester wedding celebration, contemplating her next steps in conversations with Santana and Sam. A companion of sorts to "A Picture I Still Keep" but it's not at all necessary to read that one for this to make sense.


**After the one shot I wrote a couple weeks ago, I still couldn't get Sam & Mercedes out of my head. So I came up with this way to possibly reunite them for Season 5. Title comes from lyrics in the Mariah Carey/Miguel song #Beautiful, which is also referenced in the story.**

**Hope you enjoy - please let me know!**

* * *

After the post-wedding hugs and the congratulations and the excitement had died down a little bit, Mercedes slipped off to the side of the room. Sitting down in one of those crappy plastic chairs, she gazed around the choir room. Like the previous week in the auditorium, she let herself sort of wallow in nostalgia for a minute. So many memories in this room too and it definitely wasn't big enough to hold them all.

She looked across the room again, smiling at the new Mr. and Mrs. Schuester, who were talking to Kurt and Blaine, Kurt still clearly thrilled about having been at a surprise wedding, Blaine looking just the slightest bit agitated, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Mercedes shook her head just a little bit. She and Kurt had finally had a little time to catch up over the past week, so she knew that Blaine really seemed to want to get back together and Kurt had seriously mixed feelings about the idea.

Her musings were interrupted by Santana dropping herself onto the chair next to hers, greeting her with, "This is a wedding, Wheezy. Why so glum looking? Bummed you didn't get to bust out that operatic side of your voice again?"

Mercedes just smiled, knowing that beneath the insults, Santana probably really was concerned about why she looked a little sad.

She shrugged. "Just thinking. Remembering. You know."

Santana nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes coming back here really sucks, doesn't it?"

Mercedes laughed. "Yeah. Sometimes it really does."

"Heard about the whole thing with your album. That sucks too."

"Yeah." Mercedes shook her head. "You know, it's almost a year since graduation and nothing's quite turned out like we thought it would, has it?"

Santana laughed. "Yeah, not hardly. So – what are you gonna do now?"

"No clue, really," Mercedes admitted. "Finish out the semester and then go from there. Back to Lima for the summer, probably, and then decide. UCLA's a great school – but, I don't know, just not quite the right fit, I guess."

Santana nodded slowly before asking, "Thought about New York at all?"

Mercedes shrugged again. "A little, yeah…" She turned to look at Santana and narrowed her eyes. "What are you really asking?"

Santana played it cool for a minute before confessing, "I've got to get out of Lady Hummel and Grandma Berry's loft. And I'm pretty sure I can't afford anything even a tiny bit decent on my own, so c'mon. Come to New York and be my roommate? Please?"

Mercedes couldn't help but laugh a little. "Seriously? Come on, Santana, get real."

Santana waved a dismissive hand. "Please. You and I were always the two baddest bitches in this school. Think of what a force we could be in NYC."

Mercedes shook her head, laughing again. "You probably have a point."

"You know I do. So – what do you think?"

Mercedes shook her head again. "I think – let me think about it, okay? There's like, six more weeks of school – you can use that time to kinda scout out apartments or whatever – and then Nationals are in LA, so of course you're flying out to support the team, right?" At Santana's nod, she continued, "So, you can crash with me and if we don't kill each other in a weekend, well, then – New York could be a definite possibility."

"Yay!" Santana replied happily, clapping her hands, and Mercedes couldn't help but grin at seeing the familiar gesture again. Maybe Santana's suggestion wasn't completely insane.

"Ladies?" Will's voice interrupted their conversation. "You all heading to Breadstix with us?"

"Do you even have to ask that question, Mr. Schue?" Santana replied, looking incredulous as Mercedes glanced around the room and realized that pretty much everyone had cleared out. "'Cause you _know_ I am not about to pass up a trip to Breadstix!"

They all laughed as Will nodded. "Really, I was surprised you weren't the first one out the door," he said teasingly.

"Right?" Mercedes agreed, as she stood up and grabbed Santana's arm. "C'mon, girl, let's go! See ya'll there!"

* * *

By this point in time, the Breadstix staff was totally used to the Glee club events of both the planned and impromptu variety and the stage area was once again set up. After a few sweet serenades to the newlyweds, the party devolved into a typical New Directions event with various individuals, duet partners and random groups taking the stage.

"You know what I want to sing?" Santana randomly announced.

"What?" Mercedes replied, bemused, because knowing Santana, it could be _anything_. She and Santana were the only ones sitting in the circular booth at that time and while Mercedes knew she didn't have to sing, she was really hoping that whatever song it was would be one that Santana could do on her own, because she just didn't quite feel like singing right at that moment.

"That new Mariah one," Santana answered. "You know, with that Spanish singer guy that Kelly Clarkson got all jazzed about at the Grammys?"

"Miguel?"

"Yeah, him." Santana scrutinized the room. "You think any of these fools can take on that part?"

Mercedes opened her mouth to answer, but before she could say anything, Santana was up and moving.

"Hey, Tiny Toon Puck," she said loudly, pulling him away from where he was dancing with Marley.

"Um – yes?" Jake replied, looking mildly alarmed.

"The new Mariah song. _#Beautiful_. With Miguel? You know it?"

"Uh – yeah? I think so?" Jake looked even more alarmed as Santana replied, "Good enough," and over in her booth, Mercedes shook her head.

"Go with God, little Puckerman," she muttered under her breath as Santana grabbed Jake's arm and pulled him to the stage.

A soft chuckle came from behind her; she had twisted in her seat to watch the Santana show and she turned around to see Sam sliding into the booth beside her.

"He has no idea what just happened, does he?" Sam commented and Mercedes couldn't help but laugh in response.

"No one ever does when they first encounter Santana," she replied.

"I sure didn't," Sam said in a reflective tone and Mercedes nodded, not really sure how to respond to that. What exactly did you say about the ex you still had feelings for once having been in a relationship with the ex-girlfriend of his latest ex-girlfriend? Mercedes shook her head, feeling like she'd given herself a little bit of a headache just constructing that thought, and turned her attention to the performance, turning in her seat again to be able to see the stage.

They were halfway through the first chorus before she heard Sam speak again.

"This song makes me think of you."

She didn't reply, partly because she didn't know what to say (even now, after everything, his simple words could still turn her insides to mush!) and partly because she didn't want to admit that it reminded her of him too.

"The whole vibe of it, you know?" he continued. "It just – I don't know, it just feels like – like, _us_, to me." Tentatively, he reached out and put his hand on her arm. "'Cedes…" His voice trailed off. He didn't know what else to say. He knew he had no right to expect anything from her, after the last ten months apart and not really talking and Brittany and everything. But – damnit, he felt compelled to try. Brittany breaking up with him had been a wakeup call.

She closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry at the sound of him saying that shortened version of her name that only he had ever really seemed to use. She took a deep breath before turning back to look at him.

"Sam – don't," she said softly.

"Don't what?" he replied. "Don't try to be honest with you about how I feel? I think it's about time, really."

Mercedes shook her head. "How you feel about me? Sam, get real. We broke up months ago. You've been dating Brittany for months. You fake-married her, for God's sake – yes, Tina told me, she kept us all up to date on every ridiculous thing going on at this ridiculous school – don't try to all of a sudden tell me that you still had feelings for me all along."

"But I did," Sam said, quietly, but insistently. "I think – I don't know, I like, blocked them out or something, because it was too painful to think about. It just sucked."

Mercedes shook her head again. "So why did you tell me how much you missed me? I mean – I know long-distance is hard, but maybe we could have tried…"

Her voice trailed off as Sam shook his head, his hand dropping away from her arm. "You'd already said you didn't want to do that. You said it wasn't fair to tie either of us down when we were 2,000 miles and three time zones apart. And then Santana broke up with Brittany and we started hanging out and it was just – simple. It was easy to think that I loved her."

Mercedes knew he was right. Breaking up had been her idea. She hadn't thought it would be fair. But, then, she hadn't really thought that Sam would start dating anyone else. She hadn't – between classes, recording sessions and time spent in LA traffic, she'd had no time for dating. So when she'd heard about Britt and Sam hooking up, it had _hurt_. Like, cry into her ice cream for a week or so hurt.

"I don't have any excuses, Mercedes," Sam said, the sincerity written all over his face. She could tell he meant it when he went on to say, "I'm sorry. I wish – I wish, we could go back and wipe out the whole last year or so. I wish I could go back to before my family moved to Kentucky. I should've like, tried to take double-credits or something, so I could graduate with all you guys." His voice had gone a little manic and he dropped back to a more serious tone. "We could've gone to LA together. If you wanted?"

"That would have been nice," Mercedes admitted, almost before she even realized what she was saying.

Sam grinned and she held up a hand. "I just said it would have been nice. I didn't say it changes anything now."

Sam took a deep breath. "Look – I know that this is going to sound really, really tacky and I am so truly sorry for that – but – I am single again. And you're single. And we're in the same town right now…"

Mercedes just looked at him, torn between wanting to punch the crap out of him and wanting to kiss him. "Sam," she finally said. "You and Brittany _just_ broke up. Like, literally just days ago. Don't you think this is too soon?"

Sam nodded. "I know. That's why I said I know it's tacky. But – in those days, I've had time to think about it and I realized that what Brittany and I had was never real. We were both just looking for a substitute for the person we really wanted." He met her eyes with a steady gaze, one hand gently brushing her bangs away from her face before reaching to take her hand, feeling a surge of hope when she didn't immediately yank it back away from him.

Mercedes really just didn't know what to do. Part of her wanted so badly to stick to her principles, to not jump into anything with a man so freshly wounded.

And part of her was screaming that this was Sam and that made it different. He was _Sam_. She didn't know how else to describe him.

And so she made a split-second decision to throw caution to the wind. To forgive the last year. To take a giant leap forward.

She leaned over and softly kissed him, giggling as he made a noise of startled surprise when their lips met.

"I'll say it again," she said as they broke apart. "You are cuh-ray-zee, Sam Evans, and I think you make me a little crazy too." He grinned at that and she continued, "But the happiest times of my life so far have been when we're together – so I think I'm willing to take the chance."

"I love you, Mercedes," was all Sam managed to say before taking her face in his hands and kissing her again.

Mercedes laughed softly as they broke apart. "I love you too. But I don't know how this is going to work. I go back to LA tomorrow and I don't know what I'm doing when the semester's up. I might stay in LA; I might go to New York. Actually – Santana and I were talking about it earlier - I'm really thinking about going to New York."

"We'll figure it out together," Sam promised earnestly. "I'll look into schools in both places, you can see if there's somewhere in New York you like better than UCLA and we'll figure out what's the best place for us."

Mercedes felt a huge grin spreading across her face. Bless him, his enthusiasm was infectious. "Like they just sang in that song, 'I don't care, take me anywhere?'" She sang the words in a low voice and Sam nodded, grinning back at her.

"Exactly like that. We'll be in LA for Nationals in six weeks, so it's not even that long before we get to see each other again. In person, I mean. We're gonna Skype every night. 'Cause I'm not going six weeks without seeing your face or hearing your voice. We're gonna make this work. I promise."

He put his hand on the table, palm up, and she placed her hand on top of his, interlacing their fingers together.

They smiled at each other and Mercedes breathed a silent prayer of thanks to the universe for giving them another chance to get it right.


End file.
